The Night Before
by notsomuch
Summary: Sometimes the wait is the hardest part.


Hey, so, I just found this story saved on computer and decided to do something with it. Hope you enjoy.

Oh, and if I didn't specifically name "he" and "she" anywhere, I'm sure you can figure it out.

Reviews make me smile : )

* * *

So what if it was stupid.

So what if it was too soon, and they were too young, and too emotional.

So what if it was the most cliched, ridiculous thing they could be doing.

She loved him. And he loved her. They hadn't said that yet, which maybe was a mistake. Maybe things were going a bit out of order. But they didn't need to say it. That was merely a formality. They each knew how they felt about one another. They knew that they were permanent, they were forever. Their forever.

Because forever was a tough word to throw around nowadays. Especially now. Now, when they only had a few hours of peace left. Or maybe just a few hours of life left. A few hours of everything left. The inevitable would arrive sometime tomorrow. They probably still wouldn't be prepared. But they could never be prepared. How do you prepare for something like this? There's no handbook for the apocalypse.

* * *

They had spoken to their families, briefly. The floo network was buzzing tonight, and they only had so much time. There were too many other people that needed to speak with their loved ones. She had told her parents she loved them. She couldn't say goodbye. She just couldn't, it didn't seem right. It hadn't really registered in her head what was happening; the severity of it. She played all the right parts, but she didn't really know what to expect. Her parents had been worried, understandably. They responded in turn, thinking she was just having a nightmare or something. They weren't very far off. She would need years to explain to them all they had missed, the world they knew almost nothing about. She didn't have time. She just let them know she loved them. They would find out if something happened to her. They were better off not knowing the details.

But there was nothing left to do. Nothing left to do but wait. Wait for the inevitable. She was so tired, she could barely function. She had been that way for weeks. But it's not like she could really sleep. Go to sleep, and wake up bright and early for the end of the world?

She didn't want to be alone right now. But she didn't want to be with anyone else. There were too many people here, in the common room. Talking to their parents in the floo, crying, whispering with their friends. Everyone reacting in different ways. There was nothing to do, nothing to say. The idea that she had to share her fear, and her sorrow with these people was infuriating. They didn't know anything in this war. That didn't have as much at stake.

She tried to hide inside herself. She curled up in a ball on the couch, in the corner. She stared at the dust floating and dancing in the air. Making that her only focus. If she could concentrate on that, simplify everything in her mind to dust, she could get away from it all. The sounds faded away, the colors got dimmer. Just dust.

* * *

He saw her across the room, from his lonely seat in the corner. What was he supposed to say to her? It was his job to comfort her, he supposed, but it's not like there was anything he could possibly say that could help right now. He was never very good at the comforting thing, anyway. He wasn't even really good at the emotions thing.

He had to go to her, anyway, he just didn't know what to say. She was the only one he had right now. He could try to get a hold of his family via the floo network, but he knew they wouldn't be there. The few reliable family members he had left were scattered about, fighting for the Order. They would already know the fate of Hogwarts. And if they didn't maybe it was for the best.

Ginny was his only family here, but he had no idea where she was. Somewhere wandering the halls, or upstairs crying with her friends. It didn't matter, he didn't really have anything to say to her, either.

There was Harry, but he had been whisked away by the adults as soon as the news came through. It all concerned him now, and Ron and Hermione no longer had the luxury of their best friend's confidences. Ron didn't even know if they would get to see him before it was all over. He hoped.

But what would he say?

There were so many thoughts running through his head. Abstract, wordless emotions. He knew things, he felt things, but how could he express them out loud without sounding like an idiot?

So he was left with her. He wanted to go to her. He didn't want to be alone for this, and he didn't want her to be alone.

He stood up slowly, hands in his pockets, and made his way over to her seat in the corner. He stood behind her for a moment, watching her stare blankly at the wall. He still had no idea what to say. After awhile, he sat nervously on the edge of the couch cushion and looked her in the eye. She met his gaze for a moment, but when it was too painful she looked away again, letting out all the air she had held in her lungs. He stretched out his long body on the couch, molding against hers like so many times before. She could feel his breath tickling her hair against her ear.

They stayed like that for awhile, until she began to feel claustrophobic. But not trapped by his body: she was trapped in by the voices of frantic first years and the nervous tapping of fingers and the stale, stuffy smell of the common room. She rotated her body on the couch until their noses were nearly touching.

"Get me out of here." she said softly

He almost jumped just to hear her speak. He rolled off the couch and reached out his hand for hers out of habit. She placed her tiny hand in his and he lead the way upstairs. Once they reached the landing, he hesitated, not knowing if her plan was to head to the boys' room or hers. without pausing, she continued on up the stairs to the 7th year boys' dormitory.

As soon as they crossed over the threshold of the door, she ran from window to window, throwing up the sash and breathing in the fresh air. She didn't know how long she stood there, staring out at the darkened grounds wishing she could just fly away. He didn't know how long he stood there watching her.

She turned to him, suddenly. Her eyes were bright and stormy, and she ran to him before he even knew what was coming. Her mouth was on his and her hands were in his hair. They were a tangle of lips and tongues and hands and hair. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, because she needed to be as close to him as possible. They balanced like that in the middle of the moonlit room for awhile, losing track of time, until he felt the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, and he let himself fall onto it. Whether she noticed the change in position or not, she didn't let on, nor did she lesson her ferocity. There was no sound in the room except their own labored breathing.

Her lips left his mouth and trailed over his chin, down the column of his throat, until she reached the base and he let out a moan. She paused for the first time and raised her head to look him in the eye. He was too caught in the moment to read the look in her eyes, but before he knew it, her hands were slowly moving from his chest to the collar of her shirt. His eyes widened as she began to unbutton, one button at a time, a slow and torturous process.

He started to speak, feeling as though he should say something, but she just shook her head. She continued to undress slowly, not to tantalize him, but because her hands were shaking so badly she was having trouble with buttons and clasps. The whole time her eyes never left his. He didn't let his eyes wander, not knowing if he had her permission. She finished undressing, and placed her cloths in a neat pile at the side of the bed. She sat there on his lap, naked, while his franticly wide eyes struggled to remain on her face. But she gave him the slightest smile, a sign that he was allowed to look, and he wanted to hit himself when he felt the blush crawling up from his neck to his hair. He realized she was probably waiting for him, and rushed to undress himself, making much quicker work of it than she did.

When they were both undressed, they climbed tentatively under the covers, and just laid there, staring at the ceiling for what seemed like forever. Finally, he rolled over and nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck.

"What do you want to do?" he asked lightly, not wanting to scare her, not knowing what he should do.

She grabbed his head and lifted it to hers, kissing him as hard as she could.

"I only want you." she said, the strain of tears in her voice.

He kissed her back, and then rolled over her, placing his arms to either side of her head.

* * *

It wasn't what either of them expected. Sure, it was beautiful, and wonderful, and there was love, and passion. But there was also fear, and anticipation. Their hands trembled, their breaths caught in their throats. But above all, they were silent. There were no exclamations of love, no cries of passion, just silence and labored breathing. And before they knew it, it was over, and their sweat-slicked bodies were lying side by side on the bed, yet again staring at the ceiling. Until at last, he turned and said:

"I do love you, you know that."

"I do."

It wasn't long before the silence was broken by her sobs. They started out gentle and quiet, but escalated until her entire body was shaking against him. He could do nothing but pull the covers up over them, cradling her sobs as he watched the sun rise slowly through her chestnut hair.


End file.
